Stephen Bernard said he’s not particularly upset that he can’t fish or boat anymore on Whittenon Pond, the section of Mill River that runs behind his house at 493 Whittenton St.

But he is ticked off about a pile of previously hidden junk that in recent weeks has arisen from the muck and shown its ugly face where his backyard meets the water.

Bernard said he understands the good intentions of the state and various non-profit agencies and organizations that have been working on the Mill River Restoration Project — a collaborative effort to restore Taunton’s Mill River to its natural state, lessening the threat of flooding and repopulating a 30-mile stretch of water with herring and eel.

The state’s Office of Dam Safety, since 2012, has set about dismantling a number of privately owned, potentially hazardous dams left over from the mill era of manufacturing. To that end, the former Hopewell Mills Dam near Taunton State Hospital was removed in 2012.

Bernard’s predicament arises from the removal this summer of what remained of a stone spillway erected in 2005 after a dam belonging to the owner of Whittenton Mills nearly collapsed and threatened homes and businesses in the city. That event drew national news coverage.

The result of removing stones and tons of dirt and mud on Whittenton Pond has been dramatic: What for decades had been a sometimes swollen body of water is now a curling stream so shallow one can walk across from side to side.

Bernard’s problem is that his water line has receded, leaving in its wake tires, cedar timber, what appears to be a wheel and frame from a horse-drawn wagon and the remnants of 50-gallon storage drums.

There are also household items such as a toaster, CD players and ornaments. He’s convinced they came from dealers who tossed them in the river in 2012 when the Whittenton Mills flea market closed after pipes burst in the building.

“We saw them throwing it in,” Bernard said.

To prove his point, he’s recovered a metal sign from the muck advertising the old flea market and erected it.

Bernard has lived in the house for four years with his young son and mother and is physically disabled and doesn’t work.

“I’m here every day.”

He says it’s unfair for the state to employ people to plant native vegetation within sight of his house, while at the same time refusing to lend a hand to remove items and objects that he is incapable of moving.

“It’s all nice and dandy what they’re doing, don’t get me wrong. But why would they ignore this?” he said.

“Hey, look at that,” Bernard exclaimed, as he bent over to pull a cast-iron frying pan out of the mud. “I’m keeping it.”

Page 2 of 2 - Bernard said he was paid a visit two weeks ago by Taunton’s Conservation Commission agent Michele Restino. But he said it ended badly when he became agitated with a supervisor for the restoration project who, in turn, called police, claiming Bernard threatened him.

“I can understand his frustration, because it does look awful,” Restino said. “But he didn’t help by being belligerent and swearing at workers.”

A call seeking comment from representatives of the restoration project was not immediately returned.

He said a construction excavator sitting on the other side of the river could be used to resolve the problem, but that project workers so far have shown no interest in using it to remove the junk.

So for now at least Bernard finds himself between a rock and a hard place.

“Do you want that in your backyard?” he said, motioning to the sloping, mucky riverbank littered with objects. “It’s not environmentally nice. It’s just wrong.”